A/N: And here we return to Emma's POV. Enjoy!

"So where were you raised?" I questioned as I sank onto the very edge of the seat, me tea cup and saucer sitting lightly on my lap, my fingers clutched around the curve of the handle to keep it from tipping over and spilling. My eyes flickered over his face, noticing the way he hesitated at first, his lips parting and then closing as if silencing his answer.

"Here."

"You're lying." I tilted my head, "I do understand concealing one's history," I met his gaze and it was as if he understood me thoroughly then and it took me aback. "After all I buy my garments beneath the name E. Charming, when we both full well know that that is not who I am. Nor are you J. Hook."

"How do you know I'm not J. Hook? Or not Killian Jones at all?"

"I don't." I retorted, sipping my tea and looking up at him as he paced. "Nor do I trust that you're telling me the truth about that. But I do know, for certain, that you were not born here."

"And why does it matter if I wasn't born here?" He scoffed, shooting me a glare that went straight through me. Making me inhale sharply. I couldn't tell if it was tinted with hatred or something else. But it was a look that made a shiver run up my spine.

"Because if you tell a simple lie like that, why am I to continue to allow you here in this place?" I questioned, shaking my head in frustration, moving to sit my tea at the side table, before I spilt it all over myself.

"I stole from that gentleman out there. Why should you trust that I won't pinch from this place?"

"Again, I don't trust you, but I am watching you." I reminded him, my eyebrows rising with feigned annoyance. "If you don't tell me where you were born I shall decide to believe you were born and raised in a debtor's prison."

"Close." He gritted out, turning his back to me then. "Yorkshire."

Oh. Well, that was certainly not the reply I was hoping for. But it made sense. He knew Lord Graham, the Countess… Who knew who else. I swallowed thickly, bunching my fingers in my skirt as I looked up at him. "You know the Count, don't you?" I questioned, though surely, everyone knew the Count – but there was something there.

I wasn't sure, but the Count seemed like a more than likely connection. If by close the ruffian meant that he had been in debtor's prison at one point, then Count was more than likely behind it.

"Ho-.. How do you know that?" Killian's response shocked me, the pure tone of anger brimming through. His eyes met mine again, but the anger faded from his blue gaze far faster than I would have expected. "Yes… I knew him."

I swallowed thickly, nodding my head. My hand lifted to my neck, fingers stroking the small necklace there against my chest. "I knew him as well." I said in a low voice, knowing that if he had any connections with the Countess, ones that lie deeper than he'd let me know, he knew.

He nodded, pacing again. "He's a cruel man, Miss Swan. I am sorry for whatever he might have done to you."

"Do not be sorry for me." I rose to my feet, tugging the chain from my neck, turning to tuck it beneath the sleeve of my dress. "What did he take from you?"

"Someone I loved." He stated simply, his gaze cast down to his feet. "But, I'd rather not divulge that deeply into my past." Killian reached for his tea cup, bringing it to his lips, his gaze flickering towards me over the rim of the cup. But only for a second.

I wished to implore more, to learn if this love had been what made him work with or forever the Countess. If he was a ruffian because of her, because he was a man who seemed destined for so much more than this life he led. So much more than the ruffian. I

"Yorkshire is lovely isn't it?" I questioned, trying to make light conversation – wishing that Miss Lucas were still at home and not meeting her husband in debtor's prison – the topic of the hour it would seem.

"It's declined since I was there last, so I've heard." His lips quirked to the side, a soft laugh escaping from him as he fidgeted with his tea cup. "It's the ruffian thing isn't it? That look in your eyes, I have seen it before. Judgment."

"I'm not judging you. You mistake my intentions." I retorted curtly, my brows knit together with frustration. "Can a lady not look at a man?"

"Not a proper lady." His voice was full of amusement and it made me want to slap him across his unshaven cheek.

"Honestly, I don't know why I invited you in here." I rolled my eyes, rising to my feet and moving towards the fireplace. I needed to not look at him, not now. Not when I felt the heat rise in my cheeks under that icy blue gaze. If he was associated with the Countess, then he knew my pass. Even a playful jab like that ran deep for me.

"You invited me in here because you're looking for a little adventure in your life." I tilted my head only enough to see his shadow grow closer to me. "You should try something new darling, its called trust."

That made me turn around, eyes fluttering when I realized just how close to me he was. I straightened my back, inhaling shakily. "I-"

Before I could even say the words on my tongue, the door to the drawing room swung open.

"Miss Swan, I do hope that-" I cringed at the expression she wore, knowing full well that I wouldn't hear the end of this. "Well, clearly I'm interrupting. Do continue." She, just as he implied, wanted me to have a little adventure in my life - to stop living with the fear of the past and embrace the future.

With that statement the door closed and I was once again left alone with my-no.. No. The ruffian.

"Well, wasn't that unusual?" Killian pursed his lips and I could feel his eyes on my own, watching the way I chewed on them.

"She's a foolish old woman who doesn't understand the gravi-" I gasped then, surprised when he pulled me close to him the second I started to step away from him. "This is highly inappropriate Ruffian." My eyes widened for emphasis, but I didn't pull away from him like I should have. I leaned closer in fact, challenging him.

"Perhaps that's part of the adventure." He smirked and I swore at that moment that even if he did work for the Countess, I would willingly face the consequences of that alliance. "Miss Swan…"

A smile cracked on my lips and I tilted my head upwards towards him, lips a breath away from his, before I turned my cheek to his lips and pulled away from him quickly. "No." I said firmly, shaking my head. I knew all too well the sort of ploys that had been played on me in the past. "Lord Graham has behaved the very same way with me. Though he talked all about feeling for the first time and finding something he couldn't find with the Countess in me. You shall tell her that though I feel sorry that you have apparently lost some love and seek to find solace in me, that I am never going down that path again."

And he faltered, floundering for words as I stared at him. When he finally spoke, his eyes didn't flicker away from mine and I knew that whatever followed was going to be truth. He was bad at lying. That much I had ascertained.

"Look at me." He whispered in a low voice. "I have not told you a lie."

"What was her name?"

"Milah."

"Milah…" I repeated, brows knitting together. The name sounded familiar, uncommon enough that not many would be named that. But the familiarity ended there. "I'm sorry Mister Jones."

"Please, call me Killian."

"Killian." I smiled at him, a genuine smile as I held his gaze. "You still may not kiss me. What sort of woman do you take me as-… Don't answer that." I moved back towards the seat, opening the small draw beneath the table and pulling out the book he had given me before. "I know that this is my Uncle's book. But I do believe that you should read this again."

"And why's that?"

"Perhaps…" I flicked through the pages thoughtfully. "If you read between the lines, you might find something interesting."

"I've been reading between the lines, lass." My breath hitched when he leaned close to take the book, catching my hands between his and the leather of the cover. "You're an open book to me." Killian glanced towards the door, "I'll spare you the humiliation of her believing some illicit affair is occurring behind closed doors and take my leave."

I tilted my head, not pulling my hands away from beneath his. There was something comforting about his touch, but I couldn't admit it yet.

"When I see you next, then the illicit affair will begin."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes again. "So sure of yourself." With him it was easy, far too easy, to let go.

He leaned close again, brushing his lips against my cheek, before he bowed, stepping away from me and towards the door. I turned, following his movements with rapt interest. "I do mean you should read between the lines."

"I'm an awful read, it'll take me awhile to get through this." But the look in his eyes, told me he understood my words. I wanted him to see past my walls and see what we could have between us. If it was true that he wasn't here for the Countess. That hadn't been the question I'd asked him about.

Trust….

I could do that. For once.

He bowed again, leaving behind a charming smile as he escaped the room. Leaving me all alone to think. Until of course the Widow entered again, interested as to why the young man was leaving.

"He was the man from your Uncle's, was he not?"

"That he was." I said simply, with an air of disinterest, though my heart was still pounding in my ears. "The Ruffian as I call him." A small smile creased my lips, but I masked it as I sipped my now cold tea.

"He certainly seems interested in you; you shouldn't let that pass you by." She gave me that look. The one that I was certain I would be given if my grandparents were still alive. Telling me to live a little, because you were old before you knew it. In fact, the Widow had said that very thing to me and she was close as I got to having a grandmother.

"I shouldn't, but unfortunately we both know that I am not in a situation that allows for me to find…love." I cringed at the word, knowing full well that to love someone meant to lose them. I took another sip of the tea, before I sat the empty cup down on the side table. I smoothed my hands over my skirt, avoiding the Widow's look.

She wanted me to live more. I wanted to live more. But I couldn't. I wouldn't do it all again.

"Have you heard anything about the boy?" She questioned and those words made me jerk my head upwards to meet her eyes. "Don't look so frightened child."

"I swore that I would never talk about my so-… About the boy." I snapped, gripping my skirt tightly, my heart aching at the slip. That was in the past, a very long time ago and I couldn't let those wounds reopen. "Please… Widow Lucas, I don't feel very well and I should like to go and lie down."

"Of course, love." She reassured me warmly, smiling at me sympathetically. "I'm sorry for mentioning it."

"It's nothing." I turned around to look at her, forcing a smile. It wasn't fine. It wasn't nothing. It was my life, ruined and blessed by one mistake. "Forget it.. Please."

I wished for the past to lie in the past, where it belonged and couldn't hurt anyone but me. I was the one who carried around the weight of my foolishness, mingled by the sins of my parents. But that was my sin to bear, my curse to carry. I lived with it every day and there was no way to escape it. I shifted my wrist, letting the necklace slip from my sleeve and into my palm.

The Countess had him now. The little boy in the sketch tucked away inside of the locket. The connections in Yorkshire were a tangled mess. Everyone there knew that the boy was mine, they knew who the father was and who the grandparents were…

That gave me pause. That was where I knew the name.

Milah.