The Trouble With Horses a Pride and Prejudice Novella Variation book cover

10/25/2017 In the summer of 2014, I learned a long-time friend and mentor had passed away months ago and I was one of the last to know because my family is military and moves. 2 friends each thought the other had told me. So when I found out, I was not only devastated to lose a woman who helped bring me to church, but I felt like I had somehow been cheated a part of my life once again by the fact that I have been a Navy dependent (child and spouse) my entire life. I was angry! I was bereft… And that channeled into what if the same thing happened to Elizabeth Bennet? 

Out of my pain and loss came one of my favorite series to write. I am working on Book 6 as we speak.

XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West

Chapter 2 - The Trouble With Horses, a Pride and Prejudice Variation

The next morning Elizabeth took extra care with her toilette and abandoned her usual morning walk. Without waiting for permission, she snuck into the guest room across the hall as the dawn was still piercing through the curtains.

Mr. Darcy slumbered heavily, but Elizabeth noticed his skin was cool to her touch. Sitting in the chair next to his bed, she leaned her elbows on the mattress and fervently prayed for his continued recovery and thanked God for delivering him through the night. After saying her amen, she looked around the room for something to do and noticed his clothing was discarded in the far corner.

She gathered up the laundry and slipped back out the door and delivered the clothing to the larger laundry pile in the home’s back room. The cook winked at Lizzie as she went out the familiar door, then dropped her mouth in shock as the second eldest Bennet daughter came right back into the house.

“Morning Mrs. Hobbs.” Elizabeth gave the older woman a keen smile and skipped her habitual swipe of a biscuit from the fresh batch in the morning’s pastry basket. Retreating from the kitchen, she opened the door to her father’s study and experienced a surprise herself as her father sat very calmly behind his desk.

“And how is Mr. Darcy this morning?”

Elizabeth sputtered a few words and then looked behind her.

“No point in lying, Elizabeth, your dainty little feet are not above stressing the floorboards.” Mr. Bennet raised his eyes above him to emphasize his statement.

“That is to say, I collected Mr. Darcy’s laundry so that it may be cleaned should he happen to awaken today.”

“Mmmm, is that so? You didn’t also check on his condition?”

Elizabeth blushed and stepped further into her father’s study. “I only checked his temperature father and his skin is quite cool. His fever must have broken sometime last night.” Elizabeth looked at the shelves around her for a suitable candidate for her next project. While Mr. Darcy slept, she intended to read to him in hopes it would help rouse him more quickly.

“Lizzie, you’re playing a very dangerous game. We know nothing about this man besides his fine clothes and failure to keep his seat.”

Dragging her toe across the floor, Elizabeth made absent-minded circles with her right foot. “I know, Papa, but I feel–” Elizabeth drew a blank for a moment. What did she feel for him and could she confess that to her father? It wasn’t love, she wasn’t violently passionate about the man, but still, something strong brewed in her heart and she struggled for the words. Her father waited for her to finish her sentence with a slack expression. Finally, she found the words that fit as well as any.

“I feel responsible for him.”

Mr. Bennet sighed and leaned back. He had done his best to quiet that harpy, Miss Bingley, but he sensed it might already be too late to save his favorite daughter from the gossip and rumors that would surely spread. Reminding himself to not borrow trouble, Mr. Bennet stood up from his chair and selected a book from the shelves. With a grimace and small prayer all would turn out he handed a book to Elizabeth, who frowned when she read the title.

“Sir, this will give him nightmares of war!” Elizabeth tried to returnThe Vision of Don Roderick to her father. But, Mr. Bennet held his hand up.

“Better nightmares of war than visions of romance,” he said, expecting to see his daughter’s usual lively spirit laugh at his tease.

Shrugging her shoulders, Elizabeth weighed the likelihood that the longer she tried to argue her father he might bar her from reading to Mr. Darcy altogether. Exasperated, she left the study without the courtesy of closing his door which allowed her father to call after her.

“Keep the guest room door open!”

Shocked her father would suggest such a thing, Elizabeth giggled as she climbed back up the stairs knowing she had indeed rationalized a reason to close the door—to avoid disturbing the rest of her family as they were still asleep, of course!

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Chapter 2 (cont'd) - The Trouble With Horses, a Pride and Prejudice Variation

Resuming her seat, Elizabeth sat upright and began in a clear voice:

Lives there a strain, whose sounds of mounting fire
May rise distinguished o’er the din of war;
Or died it with yon Master of the Lyre
Who sung beleaguered Ilion’s evil star?
Such, WELLINGTON, might reach thee from afar,

Out of her peripheral view, Elizabeth spied Mr. Darcy’s injured arm moving. She placed her book down and moved over to the fresh basin of water on the bedside table. Dampening a cloth, she carried it over to place it gently on the swollen hand, happy to see diminished redness since last evening. Instinctively, she reached out to touch his bare forearm marveling at the dark hair that lay all in one direction. A spark of thrilling emotion traveled up her own arm at the connection, causing her to shiver. How could simply touching someone produce such feeling?

Elizabeth shook her head and returned the compress to the basin. Wiping her hand dry on her skirt, she resumed her reading.

Wafting its descant wide o’er Ocean’s range;
Nor shouts, nor clashing arms, its mood could mar,
All, as it swelled ‘twixt each loud trumpet-change,
That clangs to Britain victory, to Portugal revenge!

Her voice naturally swelled with indignation and without meaning to, she realized she was very nearly shouting. Immediately she quieted and turned her head towards the door, listening for sounds that she had awoken her sisters but none came. Returning her gaze to the man before her, Elizabeth remembered her father’s words and what he did not come out and say. She knew the way the world worked and very easily she might be forced to marry the man before her.

With new eyes she looked at Mr. Darcy’s dark brown hair and admired the small curls around the edge of his hairline. His jaw was of a steady sort, and he looked quite dashing with a day’s worth of stubble beginning to grow in. His chest rose and fell with each breath and Elizabeth found herself matching his meter. As her eyes traveled further down she couldn’t see his form beneath the sheet but blushed as she remembered how he had looked in his breeches shortly after his fall. Yes, if she was forced to marry this man, he certainly wouldn’t be a chore to admire!

As Elizabeth squirmed in her seat and resolved to return to her reading, she took one last look at his face. With a quick flutter, two deep chasms of chestnut were staring back at her. For a moment Elizabeth’s own blue eyes locked with his and they each took a synchronized breath.

“You are awake, Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth dropped her book and absent-mindedly reached out to squeeze his uninjured hand. Instead, he recoiled and snatched fistfuls of the sheets around him to pull them closer.

“Desist madam or I shall not be responsible for my actions. Who the blazes are you to be in my room?” Darcy looked around in confusion, not recognizing any of the furnishings or the strange woman before him.

“I’m Elizabeth Bennet. You said my name, sir, in your sleep. You fell off your horse and you are recovering in my father’s house in Hertfordshire.”

Darcy took a second stock of the room and seeing it was very simple indeed, plus the state of the dress of this Miss Bennet, found himself unimpressed. His head ached most severely and he needed to get out of here lest he become more vulnerable to compromise.

“For heaven’s sake woman, fetch your father. And where are my clothes?” His eyes widened as he worried that perhaps she had taken them off herself judging by her blush. “Are you responsible for my state?” Darcy frantically looked towards the door for another person to aid him, finding none.

Mortified and hurt that she had allowed herself to fall for the fantasy of a fairy tale, for the real Mr. Darcy was nothing short of a brute, Elizabeth stood up and left him without a word. Instead of going down to face her father, she headed towards her own room and noticed Hill in the hallway.

“Mr. Darcy is awake if you would tell my father.” Despondent, Elizabeth turned the handle to her own room and crawled into bed with Jane. Half asleep, Jane asked how Elizabeth’s walk was with a groggy voice.

As tears slid down her cheeks, Elizabeth sniffed and tried to regulate her voice. “It was perfectly fine.”

 

~~~♥~~~♥~~~

 

By mid-morning, Elizabeth sat in the parlor doing her best to ignore her mind’s memory of Mr. Darcy’s harsh awakening. With the Bingleys arriving shortly after breakfast due to the health issues of their friend, she didn’t have the luxury of running to the outdoors nor closing herself up in her bedroom. She continued to read the same page of her novel over and over again, but the romantic nature of the tome failed to capture her attention.

The silence in the parlor was broken by a great roar above, coming from Mr. Darcy’s room.

“Oh heavens! They’re killing him up there, I’m sure. What could a local apothecary possibly do to aid in this great tragedy?” Caroline Bingley fluttered her handkerchief and dabbed her eyes even though to Elizabeth’s view, they were bone dry.

Another yell in Mr. Darcy’s deep voice rang out and Elizabeth’s traitorous heart ached. She wanted to run upstairs and comfort the poor man, but chided herself for feeling such an unwanted and unreturned sentiment. Instead she slammed her book shut and placed it on the table.

“His arm must be lanced or the swelling will injure him permanently. It’s a very painful procedure and I understand he refused laudanum,” Elizabeth sniffed in Caroline’s direction after exhibiting her superior knowledge of the subject.

WHAT A DEAL!

cover for the book 3 Dates with Mr. Darcy

A kiss at the Netherfield Ball . . .

Three Dates with Mr. Darcy is a bundle of: An exclusive story, Much to Conceal, a novella that imagines what if Elizabeth confessed to Jane in London that Mr. Darcy proposed in Kent? 

A Winter Wrong, the first novella in the Seasons of Serendipity series that imagines what if Mr. Bennet died at the very beginning of Pride and Prejudice?

By Consequence of Marriage, the first novel in the Moralities of Marriage series that wonders what if Mr. Darcy never saved his sister Georgiana from Wickham’s clutches?

Elizabeth Ann West’s Pride and Prejudice variations have enthralled more than 100,000 readers in over 90 countries! A proud member of the Jane Austen Fan Fiction community since the mid-2000s, she hopes you will join her in being happily Darcy addicted!

Chapter 2(cont'd) - The Trouble With Horses, a Pride and Prejudice Variation

“How very quaint Miss Eliza that you are training to be an apothecary’s assistant. I’m sure such a profession will suit you well.” Caroline threw an insult back with a devilish smile.

Next to her on the couch, Elizabeth’s sister Jane made a small noise as her mouth fell open in shock. Elizabeth placed a hand on Jane’s clenched fist and gave a brilliant smile in return. Then she erupted into laughter.

“He doesn’t give you the time of day, does he? All your fawning and complaints about my conduct towards Mr. Darcy are because you are in love with him. Or his bank ledger, more likely.” Cooly, Elizabeth helped herself to some refreshments lingering on the parlor table from the Bingley’s arrival.

Caroline’s face reddened in fury and her mouth twisted into a most unflattering scowl. Just before she could retort, two sets of men’s footsteps could be heard taking the stairs.

“Thank you so much for your continued care of my friend. He can be, well, a bit difficult in his convalescing.” Bingley spoke over his shoulder to Mr. Bennet as the two men traversed the flight of steps and paused at the foot of them.

Mr. Bennet clapped the younger man’s shoulder in friendship before removing his handkerchief from his pocket and wiping the sweat from his brow. It had taken a great deal of strength out of the old man to help keep Mr. Darcy’s arm still so Mr. Jones, the apothecary, could do his work.

“What are neighbors for?”

Shortly, the two Hertfordshire gentlemen were joined by Mr. Jones who had finally collected his things.

“He sleeps, and the arm should heal. The rest of his injuries are remarkably minor. I expect later today or tomorrow he can be moved to your residence, Mr. Bingley.” Mr. Jones bowed to both men and followed Mr. Bennet to his study for payment.

Exuberant, Mr. Bingley turned to join the women in the parlor and completely missed the icy stares between the three women. He bowed his head slightly to the two Bennet sisters in the room, ignoring his own sister, and found his way to the high-backed chair on Jane’s side of the sofa.

Seconds ticked by on the mantle clock as the silence lengthened and Mr. Bingley finally began to fidget uncomfortably in his seat. Clearing his throat, he thought he should perhaps try to strike up conversation but none of the normally polite subjects one spoke about in a parlor came to his recall. Absently, he looked up at the ceiling and realized what was likely distressing the women.

“Forgive us ladies, the sounds of Mr. Darcy’s treatment were quite frightful. I assure you Mr. Jones performed a top-notch job.” Bingley beamed at the woman to his left, Jane Bennet.

Elizabeth’s anger still prevented her from making a polite remark so she simply nodded. For once she wished she had accompanied her mother and three younger sisters to Meryton on their shopping jaunt. Tapping her foot on the pale green carpet, the bitterness in her mouth gave way as she heard her usually quiet sister begin to speak.

“It is a marked measure of your family’s kindness towards Mr. Darcy to see you and your sister here today, Mr. Bingley.” Slyly, Jane looked up at Mr. Bingley through her eyelashes and batted them. Elizabeth sucked in her breath in surprise. Was her sister flirting with Mr. Bingley?

“The kindness is all your family, Miss Bennet. You’ve taken in a relative stranger and nursed him back to health.” Mr. Bingley kept eye contact with Jane, ignoring his sister’s glare.

Rising from the couch, Elizabeth looked directly at Miss Bingley before announcing she realized she had selected the wrong novel this morning and would retrieve the correct one. Bouncing with each step, Elizabeth was overjoyed she had managed to leave Jane with Mr. Bingley and do the one thing that Miss Bingley could not, go upstairs and check on Mr. Darcy. She had overheard the apothecary say he was sleeping, so it couldn’t harm anyone for her to take a peek for herself, could it?

Tiptoeing across the hall, Elizabeth slowly opened the door to the guest room, spying that with labored breath, Mr. Darcy was indeed asleep. She opened the door wider and entered the room to find a seat in the chair now moved against the wall.

“Is it your regular habit to enter the sick room of strange men, or am I simply bestowed the felicity of your notice, madam?”

Elizabeth was startled at the sudden taunt by Mr. Darcy and looked at his face as he kept his eyes closed and only moved his mouth.

“I am shamed that my concern for a sick man is such a black mark on my character, sir.”

Instinctively, Elizabeth licked her lips and found herself naturally sitting more to the edge of the seat in anticipation of Mr. Darcy’s next words. The nervous anxiety she felt around this man intoxicated, and she couldn’t help herself from experiencing it one more time before he was taken away to Netherfield to further recover.

Darcy opened his eyes at the woman’s retort and caught a sparkle in her eye as she threw his words right back. To be sure, she was a fair beauty, not one to turn so many heads in the society he kept, but there was something so odd about her continued dedication, despite his rudeness earlier in the morning, that intrigued him. He knew he should apologize for being too gruff, but to bring up his poor behavior would likely only again injure her sensibility if she had indeed been offended.

“Mmmm, you are giving my words more weight than their due, madam.”

“And you are striking out at the very hands that saved you.” Elizabeth grew piqued at the continued slight she felt, embarrassed that he once again questioned her propriety.

Darcy laughed. This woman was delightful, even if she was sorely mistaken. “It was you then that pulled me up six feet out of that creek bed and carried me to your home? No, perhaps you tied me to a makeshift litter and dragged me out of that forest?”

Elizabeth jumped from her chair, her cheeks burning. “Mr. Darcy, you are a rude, uncouth sort of man and I shall bother you no further.”

Ignoring her family and visitors, Elizabeth trudged down the stairs and out the front door into the safety of Mother Nature. She couldn’t believe she was attracted to such an ogre as Mr. Darcy. Stomping her way through the nearest field, she continued her one-sided chastisement in her head all the way to her best friend Charlotte Lucas’ home. She wasn’t sure how, but if she could fall so quickly for Mr. Darcy, then perhaps she would quickly be able to forget him as well.

You’ve been reading The Trouble With Horses

the trouble with horses

When a riderless horse interrupts Elizabeth Bennet’s daily walk, she is inspired to begin the search herself. Finding a gentleman in the ravine of a creek bed, she scares off snakes and raises the alarm to end up with the man situated at Longbourn for his recovery. Enamored with his dark curls and handsome face, her life appears to be following the fairy tale story line of a novel, that is until the proud, disdainful Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley wakes up.

A sweetheart romantic novella, The Trouble With Horses is meant to be a light read for those irreparably addicted to all things Austen. The writing style does not attempt to mimic the incomparable Jane, and the author hopes you enjoy the fun, humorous story as you would an afternoon tea. 

Release Date: July 17, 2014

162 pages in print.

+ 23 additional Pride & Prejudice variations are available at these fine retailers . . . 

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