Cat & Hound

By Kate Copeseeley

Cat was perfectly happy as the pampered pet of her devoted mistress—even with the irritating Hound in residence—until Fairy Godmother changed her to a young woman to help servant girl, Cinderella, catch her duke. That success has now gifted the animals temporary humanity and released them into the world to fend for themselves.

Cat hatches a scheme to find herself a rich husband—with help from the other animals and a secret stash of her owner's money. Hound's only plan is to ruin Cat's plan. As if learning the rules of polite society weren't difficult enough, London is awash with murders, courtesy of Shadow Man. He kills his victims to leech magic from them and transformed animals are chock full of magic.

When circumstances throw Cat and Hound into the path of Shadow Man, they must find a way to escape his clutches and end the Season with their human forms intact. Through the candlelit ballrooms of society's upper echelons and across the dark and narrow streets of London, Shadow Man will become the predator and Cat and Hound, his prey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Copeseeley
• Release date: May 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370885930

Kate Copeseeley

Kate grew up in a household of vociferous readers. Whether via womb or some other kind of nefarious brainwashing, Kate herself also became a vociferous reader, devouring books in just about every genre imaginable.It wasn't long before this led to writing her own stories (in every genre imaginable).

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Book Description:

Cat was perfectly happy as the pampered pet of her devoted mistress—even with the irritating Hound in residence—until Fairy Godmother changed her to a young woman to help servant girl, Cinderella, catch her duke. That success has now gifted the animals temporary humanity and released them into the world to fend for themselves.

Cat hatches a scheme to find herself a rich husband—with help from the other animals and a secret stash of her owner's money. Hound's only plan is to ruin Cat's plan. As if learning the rules of polite society weren't difficult enough, London is awash with murders, courtesy of Shadow Man. He kills his victims to leech magic from them and transformed animals are chock full of magic.

When circumstances throw Cat and Hound into the path of Shadow Man, they must find a way to escape his clutches and end the Season with their human forms intact. Through the candlelit ballrooms of society's upper echelons and across the dark and narrow streets of London, Shadow Man will become the predator and Cat and Hound, his prey.

Copyright

Text Copyright © 2015 by Kate Copeseeley

Cover Image Copyright © 2015 Kate Copeseeley

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All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of the publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Part 1: Transformation

A night without Fairy Godmother interference was both a quiet night, and a night full of peace. Unfortunately, neither was to be her lot during that early spring evening, as Cat found herself roused from a languorous sleep by a none-too-gentle hand, and brought down to the courtyard, where an assembly of ragtag creatures was waiting. It was long past nightfall, Madame and her daughters having exited the house for one of the first events of the Season.

Cat didn't mind the snap in the air; she was covered in orange and white striped fur. To show her ill-temper at being manhandled, however, she let out a yowl and tried for purchase against anything her clawed feet could reach. Her unfortunate paws met with nothing.

Will this cat do for your spell, Godmother? asked Rella, holding out the loudly objecting feline. Cat considered scratching her to make a solid point, but thought the better of it when she remembered the cold bath she had earned the last time she'd tried such a thing.

Oh, she's positively perfect, said the older woman, waving her wand about with a menace that promised life-change and inconvenience. Cat would have vastly preferred sleeping on the soft covers of Madame's bed.

When Cat felt the magic take hold of her, she scrambled out of Rella's arms and ran to hide beneath a bench outside. With a squawk and a most ungainly waddle, she was astonished to find herself rooted in place, scrambling toward nowhere. It was a horrid side effect of the magic that she was several feet bigger, unable to hide and completely hairless. She could scarcely breathe and felt out of place in her own skin, probably because it was no longer actually her own.

What the devil? Cat exclaimed, looking down at the ground, where two slender and shapely hands now rested. She tried to sit back on her haunches—only to find she had no balance—and fell upon her back, screeching and moaning. It was humiliating, and disarming to be in a body as clumsy and awkward as this one.

Rella ran over to help her to her feet and then Cat was standing—a human, in plain and ugly clothing. She had clogs that were identical to Rella's on her feet and her dress itched and clung to her like ill-fitting skin. Cat wanted to rip it off immediately, but she wasn't sure how. She turned to glare at the fairy.

What have you done to me you— her voice cut off as Rella pinched her sharply on the arm.

You, Cat, are to prepare Rella for the ball she is to attend tonight, the fairy told her.

Cat took a moment to stare down her enemy. Fairy Godmother was dressed in a ridiculous fashion: her dress of pale pink silk was dampened in the style of some older, fast women, with an excess of ruffles and tucks and trims. The décolletage of her gown plunged well beneath the modesty of her age and the turban on her head was coated in jewels and feathers. It wobbled as she talked.

Cat sniffed and crossed her arms.

Fustian. I won't listen to this bird-witted talk, she announced. It was nice to give her feelings spoken words, for once. So many times she'd had to settle for the swipe of a paw. How's she to get there? What's she to wear? Everyone knows Madame won't give her a bent farthing to spend. Besides which, you turned me into a human against my will. I have no wish to help that pathetic serving girl.

"The details of Rella's care are mine to worry about. And unless you wish to find yourself turned into a hop toad or perhaps a nice plump mouse you had better help in any way that I ask," Fairy Godmother said. The fairy turned to Hen, and transformed her into an older woman, hair covered by a fashionable lace cap, clothed in a deep rose silk gown with lovely Vandyke point lace details on the hem and sleeves. Cat couldn't help observing that her bright dark eyes, sharp nose, and plump cheeks looked similar to her former chicken self.

Hound was next, but he didn't bother running. He sat and waited patiently on Rella's command.

Like the simpleton he is, Cat thought. He became a footman in blue and silver livery, which looked much finer than her own servant garb. She yanked on the itchy collar, trying without success to alleviate her discomfort.

There were six mice that had been caught in a trap that must be magical, for Cat had never seen any mice in the traps that Rella put out. Fairy Godmother removed them, one by one, and they became six matching bay horses. It seemed extravagant to Cat, who had only seen the rich and noble carried about by conveyances needing six horses. Two ugly rats became carriage driver and groom.

The carriage was made from some sort of root vegetable that they had in the cellar, since nothing else was in season in early March. Thankfully, it wasn't to be an indication of its transformed self, as it became a lovely town carriage with gilt detailing. All in all, the whole thing was a fine turn-out, from Cat's perspective. Since their small courtyard was not of a size to accommodate even one large animal, the lot of them had been moved to the alleyway next to the townhouse and were now waiting patiently for their lady to be handed inside.

The fairy, who had been bright and bustling before, was now looking worn. Serves her right, interfering in our lives like she has a right to be there. Cat hoped she expired on the spot and sent all of them back to their regular selves.

I've just enough magic left for your dress. The rest will be up to you, dearest. I've given you all the tools, you only need to put them to use, she said. With Rella, Cat, and Hen following, they went up to the girl's attic room, pawing through her wardrobe for something even remotely suitable.

It will help greatly if we have a base to start with. Then I can do a glamour instead of a full transformation. Some old dress of your mother's perhaps? the fairy suggested.

There was one trunk in particular that Rella hunted for, and when she found it, she pulled out one of her mother's hopelessly old fashioned ball gowns. Then there were the gloves and the hair baubles and an old tarnished silver necklace that were all made to look new and of much grander quality than they were.

Hen pulled off her own elbow length gloves and turned to Cat.

Go down and fetch the hot water hanging over the fire. She'll need to be bathed. Thankfully, I don't need a cleaning myself, since I preened today.

Grumbling to herself, Cat ran down the stairs, still trying to make sense of her clumsy limbs. She saw the pail of water that Rella had heated for the dinner dishes and almost grabbed it by the handle, but remembered in time that she needed a mitt for her hands. Grumbling again, she lugged it up the stairs, set it on the floor and then ran back down to fetch the water tub as she was ordered. Then it was, Run down for the cold water, Cat, and she was off again.

By the time she got back, the fairy was gone and Hen had poured Rella's bath for her. Cat added the cold water and was set to washing her mistress's hair and back with the lavender scented soap bar that Madame saved aside for her own baths. Rella exclaimed over how much gentler it was than the soft soap she usually had to use. Meanwhile, Hen bustled about setting the chemise, stockings, pantaloons and slippers in order.

Cat helped Rella out of the tub in a most hasty fashion, rubbing the other girl's body with a linen cloth until it was a rosy pink. When she was in her undergarments, the two ladies lifted the light blue silk slip over her head, followed by the over-dress of gauzy silver. The whole thing sparkled and Cat noticed that it was covered with shiny beads and thousands of tiny pearls, here and there a diamond sparkling. Cat felt a lump in her throat, realizing that Rella would look lovely enough to go to any number of balls.

"I don't see why I get stuck as the ladies' maid while the two of you flit off to the first grand ball of the Season. If I have to be human, I should at least get some benefit, shouldn't I?" said Cat.

Hush, said Hen and looked so fierce that Cat had flashbacks of being pecked. She shut her mouth with a snap.

Cat sat on the now empty bed and considered the beautiful girl that stood across the room from her, holding still as they looked her over. What had Rella ever done that was so wonderful? Why did the fairy give a single thought to her? It's not as though she was some paragon in society, helping the poor of London. She was a cast-off, made to earn her keep as a maid for her miserly stepmother while her father was away fighting Napoleon.

Rella walked across the room and clasped Cat's hands in her own gloved ones.

It's only for a night, Cat. Who knows? Maybe Fairy Godmother will give you a turn next, she said.

Cat snatched her hands back and threw herself onto the bed.

Don't pretend to care about me, human. You chased me out of the house with a broom only yesterday, she snarled.

Rella laughed, the diamonds on her dress twinkling in the candle light.

Well, you would insist on torturing poor Hound. Honestly, Cat, must you abuse him so?

Cat sniffed and raised her chin in the air.

Of course. He's my inferior in every way. And look at him now... a lowly footman.

Next to Rella, Hen—whom they were to refer to as Mrs. Bilton—clucked in her usual motherly tone.

Now my dears, let's all of us have a fine time tonight. Rella must have her ball, and we must do our best to support her. It's our duty.

Yes, yes, I'm aware of my duties and of yours. I'm to get Rella ready to dazzle at the ball. You are Mrs. Bilton—a distant cousin—doing her father the great favor of bringing her out in society. I'm simply baffled at how you think you can pull off this escapade of yours.

Rella and Hen exchanged glances, and the younger girl's face turned somber.

There will be difficulties, to be sure. But it's not all bad. I do have a dowry and lands left to me by my mother. I am from a good family. The problem is that I have no access to them until I'm of age. My stepmother, out of pure malice, has chosen to hold me back from my debut and thereby ruin my marriage prospects. I must make my come-out, if I'm ever to have a chance of escaping my current existence.

We'll find a way for you, my dear, comforted Hen. And I'll hear no more complaints from you, Cat. Or have you forgotten I can hold my own against you?

Thinking of the various forms of beaked chastising she'd received from Hen whenever she'd tried to hunt one of the chicks, Cat flinched. She pouted again, but kept quiet as she brushed and styled Rella's hair, and then Hen's. She carefully placed the ornamentation the godmother had made for them into their respective coiffures. Then she stood back in grudging admiration of the exquisite picture that Rella made, standing in the dim light, dress and hair glittering, face glowing with excitement.

I suppose you'll do then, Cat said, frowning. Rella threw her arms around the cat-turned-girl.

Thank you, Cat. I promise, no matter what happens, I'll see you rewarded for this, said Rella.

Then the two women disappeared down the stairs, leaving Cat staring enviously behind them.

~~~~~

Once they'd dropped Rella and Hen at the entrance, with their engraved and gold-embossed invitation in hand, Hound made his way to the servants' anteroom, where it was expected that he would drink stolen liquor and brag to the other footmen. He really did hate to disappoint in that regard. Besides, part of the business of putting Rella out in society meant that he must get the rumors of her good breeding and modest fortune flying through the ranks of the servants—and on to their masters.

It was to his benefit that Hound had always been a good-natured sort of fellow, because to him the night had so far been more of an adventure than a chore. He couldn't help laughing to himself at the memory of Cat's face when the fairy godmother had transformed her and then given her marching orders for the evening.

His orders were to wear fine and fancy livery—silver and blue, thank you very much—and run alongside the carriage as it meandered leisurely through the best streets in London. Then he was ordered to make his way here, to the footmen's waiting room, and while away the time gossiping with the others.

Footmen were terrible gossips. He'd seen it himself, wandering about the streets in his dog form. Not a day went by that he didn't learn some startling fact about one of the neighboring houses and its inhabitants. Today was no exception, as tongues seemed to fairly fly with news of one noble or another.

They had been fashionably late to the ball, meaning there were several footmen already looking foxed—laughing and laying bets as to the night's outcomes. Hound moved into the room with the easy grace of one who had run free his whole life and the manners of a nosy dog.

Ten to one His Grace calls in person, said a hulking fellow to the left. He was sprawled over a backless chair, tiny shoes on the floor next to him.

Nah, he'll send a card round, as he usually does. None of these chits ever catches his eye, said another, skinny, wig askew.

I think you'll find my lady is an exception, she's a regular out and outer, bragged the first footman. They all appeared to be sharing from the same bottle and he took a swig.

Hound heard this with some interest.

His Grace, Duke of Pelhenn? Hound asked, cocking his head.

Sure enough, nodded the man. You in for a shilling?

Bit steep in the pocket for me, said Hound, shaking his head. 'Sides, I think his eye will favor another lady.

Oh, don't tell me. Chap thinks his own lady has a chance! crowed the first man.

What's your name, my fine fellow? Who's your lady? asked a new footman, showing a sudden interest in Hound.

Em Hound, said Hound, adopting the other man's stilted accent.

Hound? Odd name. Might as well call you Rat or Horse, joked the man. I'm Geoff. Those two fools are Stubbs and Jason. So, who's your lady then?

Miss Rella Stanfordshire, is her name, and there is not a lady here to match her wits and beauty, pronounced Hound. The entire room laughed at him, some almost falling from their seats, they guffawed so boisterously.

Never heard of her, said Geoff, looking at him musingly. You look familiar, though. Have I ever seen you before, maybe at another post?

Hound shook his head and took a seat in the empty chair near the man.

My mistress is the only daughter of Mr. Edward Stanfordshire, off fighting in the wars, Hound said, by way of explanation.

There's no way your lady could match mine! exclaimed Jason with a passion that seemed more inspired by drink than his good sense.

Now that's a bet I'll take, said Hound. Go have a look for yourself if you don't believe me.

What's she look like? asked Stubbs. We'll go peek.

She's tall and dark haired, wearing a light blue dress with silvery stuff over the top of it. Scads of shiny things in her hair and embroidered on the over-dress.

The other two men slipped off, presumably to check. While they did, Geoff continued to look at Hound as though he wanted to say more, but he kept quiet. Jason and Stubbs were back in a trice, both wearing expressions of astonishment.

Who did you say that is? they asked.

Miss Standfordshire? Hound replied, not certain why they were asking when he'd already told them.

She's a diamond of the first water! Jason told them. Floatin' about in a cloud of silver. Every man and woman in the room is starin' at her.

Hound couldn't help the pleased smile on his face.

Indeed? What do you suppose her chances are with the Duke?

He's dancing with her right now, besotted look on his face, said Jason, with all the bad feeling of a braggart thwarted.

Hound settled back in his chair, feeling as though his duties for the night were finished.

Hand a fellow something to drink, would you? asked Hound, hand out for the bottle.

After the ladies had been greeted by their slightly baffled hostess—she didn't deny their invitation, but couldn't remember anyone named Bilton being on the guest list—they deposited their cloaks in the provided antechamber.

There were more than a few ladies' maids there, even though Lady Brooking had done her duty and placed a maid in the room to assist the guests. Rella leaned in toward Hen.

Next time we should bring Cat. She could at least sit in here and see all the nobles coming and going, she murmured.

She's entirely too forward a miss for my taste, said Hen. Mark my words, if we bring her, she'll figure out how to go out into the ballroom and then where shall we be?

Rella sighed and handed her cloak to the attendant maid. Then she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and slipped her arm through Hen's. Since they had arrived in the middle of a set, they both moved to the side of the room near the other chaperones who were seated and watching their charges. There were two empty seats and they took them.

What do we do now? asked Hen, nerves all aflutter, for she had no idea how to set about helping her mistress.

We wait and hope that some gentleman notices me and asks me to dance, said Rella, looking dreamily at the dancers who were already out on the floor circling and pairing and parting.

Hen had seen as they entered the room that Rella was already the object of much interest. There were glances and whispers directed at them from every side. Rella didn't seem to notice, however, so Hen didn't call her attention to it. Better to let her keep her innocent and unaffected air, as it only added to her beauty.

Still, they were both a bit startled when the dance ended and Lady Brooking ushered the Duke of Pelhenn himself over to their side.

Mrs. Bilton, Miss Stanfordshire, might I present His Grace, the Duke of Pelhenn, she said, face pink with excitement.

The Duke—a handsome man with hair as light as Rella's was dark—bowed to the ladies and Rella curtsied in return. Hen herself was so mesmerized by the scene unfolding before her that she scarcely remembered to curtsy herself.

Then he was leading Rella off to the floor and Hen was standing without purpose, until she remembered she was supposed to be spreading gossip.

Hen took the opportunity to ask Lady Brooking to point out one of the most famous gossips in the city according to Madame: Lady Sheringham. Since the lady was bringing out a daughter of her own this season, she was sure to be in attendance.

The giant maroon turban was hard to miss, once her hostess mentioned it, feathers waving about as she talked to the woman next to her. Hen took a deep breath, walked as stately as a hen could, and seated herself at the woman's side.

A beauty, to be sure, said the thin, weedy looking woman sitting next to her.

I'm glad that my own daughter's alliance is almost secured. A beauty like that will set the town on its ear, commented Lady Sheringham.

She's the bit of flash this season needs. Dreadfully dull things, year after year. No notion of where she came from, though. She seems to have appeared out of nowhere, said the other woman.

Do you mean the dark haired girl in the silver? asked Hen, struggling to keep the calm and emotionless demeanor that these events required.

Do you know her? asked Lady Sheringham, turning toward Hen.

Bringing her out for my cousin, Stanfordshire, said Hen.

Oh yes, Mr. Standfordshire. Old family, on the Earl of Brimleigh's side. Good people, but not deep in the pockets, said Lady Sheringham.

I remember meeting her father when I made my own come-out. I had no idea he had a daughter. And one so beautiful, said the woman, whose name turned out to be Mrs. Cavendish.

She has a modest dowry and land from her mother, but not enough that the fortune hunters will be after her, agreed Hen. I think she'll do quite well.

The Duke has shown interest in few of the girls he has danced with this evening. Whatever your cousin's prospects, her reputation is set by his choosing her for her first dance, whispered Lady Sheringham. And if she snags herself the only Duke said to be looking for a bride this season, what a story that will make.

Hen clucked happily to herself and hoped all good things for Rella, who had treated her kindly since she was a chick herself. It looked to be the start of a promising night.

Chapter 1

Things were looking very dull indeed until after Fairy Godmother visited for what turned out to be the third and final time. It was a deceptively quiet morning in late March, the day of the vernal equinox and what would turn out to be one of the most magical days of the year for the animals.

The family was away at Rella’s wedding, having successfully married the most beautiful girl of the Season to one of the most wealthy and landed bachelors in the kingdom. Even though Madame had no interest in being a part of Rella's nuptials, she knew that the duke would have much to say at her absence. After all, his family—with the exception of the Dowager Duchess, who was ill—would be in attendance.

It was the animals who remained at the townhouse. Rella had been the only servant that the miserly Mrs. Stanfordshire would keep. Since Madame would soon be leaving town for the country, there was no great reason to hire another.

The house was empty and quiet and most of them had gathered, in a loose definition of the word, in the small courtyard. Hen clucked about, herding her chicks here and there to find bits of this and that to eat. Cat lay upon the old wooden bench, soaking up the morning sun. It was a rare morning that found itself fog free and she relished the chance to enjoy it. Hound was asleep