She shook so violently that he feared she might collapse. And no wonder—her neck now had screaming red marks where the brute’s fingers had grabbed and pressed. She was small, delicate. Kinnaird could have—perhaps would have—snapped her neck before Brice or her father could have stopped him.Lochaber had delivered her back to Brice’s side to follow and make sure that Kinnaird actually left, and now here they were. Engaged. And for life of him, he couldn’t bring himself to regret the impulsive offer. The Lord’s command had been crystalline in his heart, His will perfectly clear. Brice was meant to wed this frightened young woman.If only the Lord were in the habit of handing him reasons along with those undeniable impressions. Because though she was pretty in a quiet way, though she seemed sweet enough, though she obviously needed a protector, though he had been willing to grant the Lord had a purpose for introducing them, she wasn’t anything like what Brice imagined his future wife being.Protect her.
