What a Reckless Rogue Needs (The Sinful Scoundrels, #2)(107)

“How can you be sure it will work?” Lady Castlereagh said.

Mrs. Norcliffe shrugged. “It is easy enough to tip off the scandal sheets. Imagine all of London anticipating the competition each week. News will circulate far and wide. Everyone who is anyone will not want to miss the weekly winners.”

“Winners?” Lady Sefton said in a faint tone.

“Each week the couples will dance and compete to stay in the competition another week,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “Some will be eliminated and others will remain until the very last.”

“We are to judge them?” Lady Jersey asked.

“Of course,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “Who better than the patronesses to make the decisions?”

“I think we need an incentive for the gentlemen to participate,” Lady Jersey said. “Otherwise, the gentlemen will return to their clubs.”

“An incentive implies commerce.” Lady Cowper fanned her face as if money were akin to devilment.

“In this case, it implies competition, and that is something no gentleman can resist,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “Imagine if you will how many will be envious of those who are able to participate or observe at close hand. Almack’s will once again rise as the temple of exclusivity,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. And I will find my son a proper wife, so help me, God.

“It is rather bold,” Lady Jersey said, “but we are the patronesses. Who will dare criticize if we sanction the competition?”

“Indeed, it could result in the loss of one’s voucher,” Mrs. Norcliffe said.

“What will the prize be?” Lady Jersey asked. “It must be sufficient to draw the gentlemen away from their liquor, cards, and dice.”

“Ladies, what do you say to five hundred pounds as the prize for the most elegant dancing couple? Are we prepared to contribute seventy-two pounds each?” Mrs. Norcliffe said.

“That leaves four pounds unaccounted for,” Lady Sefton said.

“We will buy extra lemonade and buttered sandwiches,” Mrs. Norcliffe said.

Everyone nodded their approval.

“Well, ladies, I believe we are all prepared for the first annual Almack’s dancing competition,” Mrs. Norcliffe said.

Lady Jersey observed Mrs. Norcliffe with a sly expression. “Pray tell, how do you propose to tempt your son into participating?”

Mrs. Norcliffe smiled. “What every mother resorts to when faced with an obstinate son. I will make him feel guilty.”