Of course Percy knew better than to think that Marguerite would sit idly by while her brother was in danger. But that hadn't stopped him from having a heart attack over the matter. After all, she was his wife and he loved her and wanted no harm to come to her. And despite the fact he had arrived here before he had bested Chauvelin, he knew he would assure his wife's safety along with Armand's. If anything, the fact that Chauvelin's ghost was here, or had been here, Percy wasn't certain if the man had truly left or not given he couldn't see him, spoke to the fact that his plan had worked.
Percy smiled warmly and lovingly at Marguerite, keeping hold of her hand as she laced their fingers together.
"Things seem much, how do I put it, louder in this place." Even with the sounds of the French army storming through Paris and marching people to prison and the guillotine, that noise was nothing compared to the sounds of this city he'd heard as they'd made their way here. Not to mention the style of architecture had greatly changed, though that was the least of Percy's concerns on the change in time. "If you see some things still remaining the same, then it seems as though mankind has not fully learned from past mistakes."
Which was truly a pity. Despite knowing man had the capability for intense cruelty, Percy also knew that man held just as much capability for compassion and empathy. But of course, it seemed those who were cruel seemed to be the best known. Not all heroes were recognized, and some of the best heroes died before their efforts were even brought to life. Percy would prefer to remain one of the unsung heroes. He didn't need public acknowledgement of the lives he had saved. The fact that he helped saved women and children undeserving of a fate at the guillotine was thanks enough for him. And the fact that Marguerite now knew he had been the one was the most recognition he needed. As long as she knew, that was all that mattered to him.