Chapter 12: Meeting the Prince

Helena had been a guest at my Highgate house for almost a month when Julian Castwich re-entered my life.

"I was beginning to believe that you had lost interest in this project," I said, once the Doctor was seated in my consulting room.

"Not in the least," he responded affably. "I understood that you needed at least four weeks before you had the measure of your subjects and from communication with Miss Knight I felt that perhaps a little longer might be needed."

The mention of Miss Knight brought back memories of the disturbing affairs at the Corinth palace. "Miss Voutrakis has indeed been a challenging project but not more so than some of my others. Miss Knight may be a skilful shot with a Mauser..."

"Really?"

I ignored Julian's protestation of innocence. " ... But she has confused a desire to resist with the ability to do so when it comes to matters of behavioural adjustment. I think you will find that Miss Voutrakis has made excellent progress."

I felt well able to make this assertion having viewed her progress on the Orrery in a session only the evening before. It was a fascinating spectacle that I can only compare to one other I have seen. I have once watched the Bore Riders. On the River Severn in the west of England when the tide surges into the mouth of the river and causes a breaking wave to run inland, those of a sporting disposition chance their luck in riding the wave while standing on a wooden board. The most skilful swoop along the crest of the wave, sensing every swell and ebb as it sweeps up the river channel, some sustaining their ride for almost ten miles up the river valley. Helena in the same way seemed to sense each swell and ebb of the Orrery's pulsations and, while those that ride the Bore have to content themselves with a slowly petering out wave, Helena's reward was in a veritable crescendo of orgasms in response to the machine's attentions.

"I am pleased to hear it. I wish to arrange an audience. With her future husband. From what you say it could be achieved within a few days."

"Indeed." I consulted the desk diary that carries in it the plan of sessions that I have developed for each of my students. "This Thursday or Friday would fit well with her schedule."

Julian examined his own pocket notebook. "The afternoon of Friday will, I suspect, be best. I will confirm it and advise you of the details, the venue and so forth."

"I would be quite happy for his Highness to attend here."

"No doubt, but that is not how we will do it. We need a discreet location. We do not wish any speculation on the Prince's future. Something will be organised to fit in with his existing itinerary. I just ask that you and Miss Voutrakis be available to journey to which-so-ever part of the capital seems appropriate. You can make your own travel arrangements, I assume? We cannot use any of the Office's transport for obvious reasons."

"Of course. Do not worry."

Helena was immediately enthused by the prospect, wanting to know what would be expected of her, where the encounter would occur, how she should behave. This was an encouraging sign. Only a few weeks ago she would have been telling me how she intended to behave, what she intended to do. It was evidence of a satisfactory alteration in behaviour toward the objectives I had set for her. Unluckily I could do little to satisfy her curiosity and we were both obliged to await the Doctor's instructions. When they did arrive they were at once precise and vague: precise in terms of what should be done and vague in terms of what Helena could expect.

"I would like to arrange a briefing for my client," Julian's note read. "It would be most convenient if you could be available together with a demonstration of the progress so far. The kitchens of the Savoy Hotel can be reached from an entrance in Carting Lane. My client will be nearby at 10 in the evening. Please ensure that all is done to facilitate an examination of a most thorough nature but please also ensure that your project remains unaware of those involved."

"He will have to come out of hiding when he walks down the aisle," was Helena's immediate reaction, "but if he wants to play hide and seek then I don't mind."

And so it was that Helena, glowing from an early evening session on the Orrery was made ready for the trip. The 'examination of a most thorough nature' I took to mean that an intimate encounter was planned and so I had Helena put on her corset and wear her crotchless drawers. (This was no hardship for her. She needed little encouragement to play the slut; the challenge was rather to get her to withhold her pleasures and to discover the amusements that could be derived from chaste behaviour.) Beyond that it seemed unlikely that more would be needed than a cape to protect her from the worst of the weather on our journey and a blindfold to protect the identity of Doctor Julian's client.

My good friend, Harwell Tusker, (Readers will remember that I had recently helped make arrangements for the wedding of his two wards and will no doubt be delighted to learn that those unions have been such a success that Harwell has recently heard that he is to become a Great Uncle twice over!) was kind enough to put his town carriage and a driver of assured discretion at my disposal and so, at nine o'clock on the dot, a dark grey Rolls-Stanley limousine hissed quietly away from my Highgate house, heading towards Westminster with myself and Miss Voutrakis in the comfort of the vehicle's cabin.

As we drove along the Strand, I saw the posters for that evening's performance at the Savoy Theatre. "A Royal Command Performance," they said, "of Mr Nunn's setting of A New Comic Operetta by Mr Rice and Mr Webber: Pirates & Yeoman." Our Royal Family were as conservative as might be expected in their choice of theatrical entertainment, it appeared.

Our driver found the kitchen entrance and I hurried Helena inside where we were met by Dr Julian Castwich. He nodded a greeting to me and turned to Helena. "Miss Voutrakis. I must apologise for the surroundings."