"I'm not drunk! It's half past two in the morning, you silly woman. I'm just tired. And, no worries, I have no intention of telling my brother that his darling wife is secretly a lush." The grin in his voice was loud enough to be seen, despite the relative darkness of the London streets.
He chuckled and gave her a tiny squeeze. "You're welcome," he said, and then did the turn. The apparition went quite well, considering the rather awkward bundle in his arms. Shell Cottage was a black against pitch shadow and the salt sea air assaulted his senses. He smiled, even laughed. "And, again, might I remind you that I didn't exactly have time to shave before I had to come and get you?"