Had Hall told him Drake was the one who’d suggested he recruit him? That was a bit surprising. But apparently so, as otherwise Camden couldn’t possibly have made the connection. “I didn’t do it for you.” His smile emerged a little surer this time. “I did it for your mother. Don’t you remember when I kept you from getting expelled when we were twelve? She sent me biscuits every week for a year.”

Camden’s laugh could better be termed a breath. But his shoulders sagged, and the flames shooting from his eyes died down to coals. Stepping around Red—who probably would have lunged at him again if Drake hadn’t given him a little shake of the head—Camden fell onto the bench beside him. “She’ll probably start a campaign for you to be knighted for this.”

“Then I’ll practice answering to Sir Drake, because once your mother sets her mind to a thing, it’s all but guaranteed.”

There, a hint of a smile. Just a hint of one, in one corner of Camden’s mouth. But it sure beat a fist.

Camden sighed and rubbed a hand over his jaw, which was reddening. “You were shot?”

“Only a bit.”

“Only a bit?” Red, looking just as irritated with Drake now as he was with Camden, stepped forward, glowering. “You nearly died, and you are nowhere near ready to be on your feet out here. What were you thinking coming outside on your own?”

Camden sent Red one of the smirks that had landed him in the headmaster’s office at least once a week in their school days. “You know, Elton, you seem to have got cheated on the nursemaid front. She isn’t pretty at all.”

Red’s fingers curled into fists again. “Are you spoiling for another fight, you—”

“Yes. He is.” Drake held up a hand to keep Red that crucial step away. “Kindly don’t oblige him.”

Camden only glanced briefly at Drake, but the glance was directed at his abdomen, which he hadn’t yet convinced his hand to release. Camden pursed his lips. “That’s not the side I hit, is it?”

Drake forced his spine a little straighter. “Luckily not or I’d be on the ground instead of a bench.”

Camden swallowed. He wouldn’t apologize—he never did. But he nodded and said, “I’ll owe you one.”

And a favor from Phillip Camden was worth more than an apology from any other man anyway. Drake grinned as best he could. “Excellent. I shall be sure to collect at the most inconvenient moment possible.”

Camden produced a smile too. A fleeting one, soon gone. “I think your nursemaid would like you to get back inside now, Elton. She looks ready to cluck at any moment.”

Red looked ready to take another swing at him, more like.