The Dream Thief by Shana Abe

Well-born, but not
wealthy. Young.” The two men burst into smothered laughter, ducking their
heads. “Inebriated,” she added.
    “And credulous.”
    “Oh?”
    “Before the night is over, our
love-struck squires will find their purses quite a bit lighter than yesterday.”
    “Why?” she asked, suddenly
suspicious. “Are you planning to lighten them?”
    “I?” His brows raised in mock
innocence. “I assure you, I have no such desire. For one thing, I doubt very
much they’re carrying anything worth pricking my interest. For another, it’s a
bit too unjust, even for me. It would be rather like plucking a rattle from an
infant’s fist.”
    “Then—”
    “The women,” Zane said, easing
back in his chair, still with his faint smile. “The two comely maidens and
their prune-faced matron.”
    Lia turned her gaze back to them,
just in time to see one of the girls flash a grin at the men.
    “They’re really very good.” Zane
ran a finger up the stem of his wineglass, examining the deep red Tokay. “Just the right amount of coquetry applied over middle-class respectability.
The old woman adds the perfect touch. Were we in London, I’d have a pleasant
word with them all.”
    Amalia
said nothing. She watched the two girls, their practiced smiles. And the squires
glancing back, still flushed, lifting their glasses, sending a sly salute when
they thought the matron was not looking. But Lia saw now—now that Zane had told
her—that beneath the ruffled lace of her cap, she actually was.
    “Try
the fish, why don’t you?” the thief suggested. “It’s better than you’d expect.”
    “Why
did you show me this?”
    “You
wanted something of value from me.” She had. She knotted her hands in her lap
and watched the red-cheeked squires, their shiny, unguarded faces.
    “It’s the way of the world,
love,” murmured Zane. “For better or worse, you’re out here in it. It’s my
little gift to you: open your eyes.”
    The young men began to search for
their money. They began to count out their bill upon the table, while the pair
of girls pretended not to watch.
    “It isn’t fair,” Lia said.
    The thief turned his face fully
to see her; she met his look.
    “They’re young and foolish. But
they’re only besotted.”
    “Aye. It will be a useful lesson
for them.”
    She set her cup upon its saucer.
    “Snapdragon,” warned Zane. “Think
twice.”
    “Perhaps what they have with them
is all they have. Perhaps those watches belonged to their fathers. Perhaps
there are people depending upon them, upon those meager coins in their purses.
Servants. Children.”
    “Yes. Perhaps.”
    Lia
threw him a heated glance, placing her napkin upon the table. Before she could
rise, his arm snaked out; his hand pressed hers hard to the wood. His voice
came very low.
    “ Think, Amalia. What would you say to them? We don’t need that sort of attention. I
only showed you because you asked. Have you forgotten why we’re here?”
    “I’ve forgotten nothing,” she
said with a level stare.
    He returned it for a moment, his
eyes glinting pale, his brows and lashes shadowed sharp against his skin. Then
his fingers slid from hers; he shook his head. “What a pretty conscience you
have. Knowing your parents, I can’t imagine how you came by it. No, wait,” he
said, as she pushed at her chair. He came to his feet. “I’ll do it.”
    Before she could respond he was
walking away, not toward the table of the drunken young men but to the other
one, where the trio of women were nibbling at the last of their meal. He wound
through the room, by all appearances heading for the double doors that led into
the hotel’s main hall, tall and handsome and surprisingly unsteady on his feet:
a man who had indulged in too much drink.
    As he
passed the women’s table, something happened. She couldn’t see it clearly,
there were too many other diners between them, but Zane dipped and turned and
the women erupted into stifled shrieks. She