Hermes glanced over at the main house where Carrick would doubtlessly be waking from his nap soon if he hadn't already. No, not glanced. Looked slightly forlorn at for as brief a period as possible. "I love him," he said quietly, "which really I hadn't honestly expected. Choosing him," because that was what it had been much as Carrick might've liked to say otherwise, it was Hermes who made that decision, "it was more about survival than anything. I needed someone strong enough, possessive enough and perceptive enough to be able to protect me from any retribution I might face simply because I know too much." He didn't know what the groundskeeper used on the grass, but it felt absolutely delightful between his toes. It helped ground him even if he didn't think he deserved to be grounded.
"And then I realized that at some point, I fell in love with him which is frankly terrifying since I've never let myself do anything like that before with anyone," even his own daughter, "and I'm worried about how that's going to blow up in my face."
He looked down at his feet and licked his lips. "So please understand me when I say I can't volunteer that information willingly. Under duress from a concerned, possibly angry spouse...who happens to have teeth and claws and is willing to use them in full view of the house so that there's no question as to why I betrayed him even a little bit." He hadn't been explicitly told not to tell Russell, but there was a certain bit of theatrics that would be required in order for Carrick to possibly not flay him alive. Whip, surely. He was going to get punished no matter what for this, but in the face of being 'attacked'...who could blame him.