They’d barely gone three steps when an olive-clad figure stomped into their path, his scowl as dark as the circles under his eyes. “De Wilde! I thought you’d never come out. It’s impossible.”

Drake’s arms tightened a bit under her fingers. Interesting. She blinked at Camden. “I take it your first night shift didn’t go well?”

“How could it? It’s impossible. I don’t know how in blazes any of you ever manage to find the new variations. I tried every conceivable one and couldn’t make sense of it.” He flicked his eyes toward Drake, nodded. “Morning, Elton.”

Drake gave him a rather pointed look. Probably because he hadn’t actually said in blazes, though Margot had gotten rather accustomed to filtering the men’s talk for herself as she processed their conversations.

Margot motioned him to move out of the path. He could walk with them if he wanted, but they’d be holding up everyone else if he just stood there.

Not that Phillip Camden seemed to mind inconveniencing anyone.

“Are you certain you were using the right telegrams to try to break it?”

He walked backward in front of her rather than falling beside. Presumably so he could keep frowning at her. “There are wrong telegrams?”

She sighed. The others with the night shift last night should have briefed him on procedure, though they probably hadn’t simply to teach him a lesson. “They’re not all in the same code, you know. If you’re trying to find a variation for 13040 with a message sent in 7500, you’re going to get nothing but a headache for your trouble.”

“Well, how can you tell—”

“The form. Weather reports, for instance. They always appear the same. And are always in the same code.”

He muttered something that didn’t have a less offensive interpretation for her to provide for her own mind.

Drake let out an exasperated breath. “Camden! Language.”

Camden smirked. “Sorry.” He said the same thing, more or less, but in French.

He knew very well that she spoke French, too, but Margot interjected before Drake could chide him again. “I think the fellows pulled one over on you, Camden. I told you that you ought to try to get along.”

“I’m not interested in making friends.” Did he know that pain flashed in his eyes with the proclamation?

Drake certainly wouldn’t miss it.

She lifted her brows. “Then you’d best learn how to function among enemies.”

He muttered another something that would have made Maman blush.

This time Drake responded with a sigh. “Would you like to join us for dinner, Cam?”

The invitation brought the pilot’s feet to a halt, necessitating that Margot and Drake stop too. He glanced over her shoulder, his search halting quickly. Margot turned to find Dot and Holmes strolling not far behind them. “Will your nursemaid be there?”

Margot’s brows drew together. “Dot?”