If impropriety was an issue, Hermes really didn't care. None of this was real, and even then he was master of the house.
"You don't actually have any work to do right now." Most of the servants were resting, and from the smell wafting down from the house, lunch had already been finished. Beckoning that she followed, he turned around, walking back into the house. "But if you're dead set on it, you'll need to have that wrist looked at, anyway."
One of his and Morgan's attendants would have medical training, surely. Or perhaps a midwife remained from whenever Morgan had given birth. Whatever the case, someone in his staff could handle the injury, and then Hermes would see what he could do about getting her fed, at the very least.