Hermes tried not to roll his eyes too dramatically when he caught the pants, but he did manage to put them on anyway. "All this decency is killing my hopes for a threesome, I'll have you know," he teased once he settled back down on the couch. "Noted, sir. I'll be sure to have a set of clothes delivered so they're on hand when I show up as it pleases you."
The invitation to stay brought some tension into Hermes' shoulders. He really did want to. It wasn't often at all that he got welcomed into a home where he wasn't expected to put his body to work. The only other master who had truly ever done that for him was Delaunay himself.
Scott was kind and good and thoughtful and...basically everything Carrick wasn't. He suited Alcuin perhaps more than his friend truly realized. Hermes found himself with a sharp pang of jealousy just at the thought that Alcuin was in a position to truly belong to someone. It would take time for him to heal enough to warm up to Scott properly, sure, but the werewolf seemed completely willing to give it.
"I can't," he said softer, before he took a breath and slipped back into all the trappings of someone who could charm the secrets out of a statue if he set his mind to it. He glanced at Alcuin. "The Duchess is in town and I've been booked." She had a reputation almost as fierce as Carrick's as far as the treatment of slaves, and while he was sure Alcuin hadn't taken an assignation with her he was equally sure his friend didn't need any further explaining on that count especially when he'd already made the comment about rugburn being a bad idea.
He turned that charm back on Scott, who probably did need to know more. "She's not actually a duchess. It's just what she likes the slaves she hires when she's out of town to call her. She's actually just a glorified accountant who thinks she's more important and more indispensable than she truly is. Either way she pays disgustingly well and if I'm lucky I'll be unconscious by the time the driver picks me up in the morning."
Getting up again, he wandered to look at other things in the apartment, keeping his back to Alcuin so he could speak in a whisper that he knew Scott would catch, but Alcuin's ears couldn't. "Poetry. He likes poetry. It'll make his heart hurt, but right now there's nothing that won't. Bring him mysteries and puzzles too, complicated myths and legends if you can find them to exercise his mind." He cleared his throat and stood, speaking to everyone in the room. "Please tell me you got him something fried and dripping with grease for dinner. I'd like to be well and truly jealous if at all possible."