It had frightened Percy beyond belief when Marguerite had wanted to go to France herself to save Armand. He knew how bad things had gotten, and the last thing he wanted was his wife getting caught up in the bloodshed that was happening. But of course, with her brother being in trouble, he knew she wouldn't be able to stay away. Perhaps not on a conscious level as he'd been trying to think of how to save Armand himself at the time, but in his heart he knew she would've gone anyways.
As much as it had nearly killed him when he learned Marguerite had been captured as well, he was still able to save her and Armand. In the end, it had been for the best that she'd been there because she learned the truth of him being the Pimpernel, of being the one who had been saving so many people from an undeserving and unnecessary death. And then she'd fought by his side to try and stop Chauvelin. He hadn't quite liked the fact he had to fake his death in front of Marguerite, but he had needed the element of surprise to get the upper hand on Chauvelin. And in the back of Percy's mind, he had a feeling Marguerite would at some point confront him on pretending to die in front of her, but that would be for a time when he wasn't trying to get a grasp on things here.
"Well, that is something. Though the thought of the Devil using such a way of communication is a bit hard to wrap my head around." He sipped his wine, then looked over at his wife. "I imagine there are many other changes in the world that have occurred in the time that has elapsed from when you and I are from?" Really, this place was more than blowing his mind, but he was trying to take this all in stride. At least Marguerite was here. If she hadn't been...well, Percy would have no idea what he would do in such a case. No doubt hope that he'd have run across someone else in the know that could help him.
At the thought, he reached out with his free hand and took Marguerite's hand in it. "I love you." Because really. Lost time to make up for.