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Originally Posted by gmw
I think there are a few small insights into the real Sir Percy. The quiet night carriage rides with Marguerite seemed real and more natural than almost anything else. And then there was that scene in Richmond at the end of chapter 16: "he knelt down upon the terrace steps, and in the very madness of his love he kissed one by one the places where her small foot had trodden, and the stone balustrade there, where her tiny hand had rested last." And I'd probably also count his rather Spartan study. So we don't see much, but I think the little bits do start to add up.
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They weren't quiet rides at all, judging by the return home to Richmond:
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The bays were rushing along at breakneck speed, held but slightly back by Sir Percy's strong, unerring hands.
These nightly drives after balls and suppers in London were a source of perpetual delight to Marguerite, and she appreciated her husband's eccentricity keenly, which caused him to adopt this mode of taking her home every night, to their beautiful home by the river, instead of living in a stuffy London house. He loved driving his spirited horses along the lonely, moonlit roads, and she loved to sit on the box-seat, with the soft air of an English late summer's night fanning her face after the hot atmosphere of a ball or supper-party. The drive was not a long one—less than an hour, sometimes, when the bays were very fresh, and Sir Percy gave them full rein.
Tonight he seemed to have a very devil in his fingers, and the coach seemed to fly along the road, beside the river. As usual, he did not speak to her, but stared straight in front of him, the ribbons seeming to lie quite loosely in his slender white hands.
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It does illustrate his thrill-seeking personality.
And then there's the quote you put in above (which personally I find rather nauseating). If he loved Marguerite so passionately, why was he prepared to believe the worst of her, as it was reported to him, rather than seek to know the full story?