ornate embellishments

Carlisle held Esme's hand in his as they walked up the cobblestone walkway toward the old church. It had been restored since the last time he was there over three centuries ago but it looked relatively the same.

Esme squeezed his hand gently. "Are you okay?"

Carlisle nodded and lifted her hand to lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "It looks the same."

"Is does?" She asked, looking up at the church.

When Carlisle told her stories of his youth, of the church he'd grown up in, she pictured something small. A rustic, building made of stone instead of the large beauty before them. The church was white with gold trim around the doors and windows. It had ornate embellishments with incredibly tall towers.

"Yes. They've rebuilt some parts of it but they kept the design the same."

"It's beautiful." Esme said, unable to resist reaching out to run her finger along one of the golden roses on the door.

"A Tudor rose." Carlisle said, touching his finger to the rose she'd been admiring. "It used to be red and white but it must have been repainted as the Tudors became more of a distant memory."

Esme nodded, her eyes trailing over the little details of the building. "The architecture is stunning."

"Henry VIII was nothing if not lavish."

"Wasn't his reign like a whole century before your birth?" Esme teased, poking at her husband's ribs with the hand that wasn't held in one of his.

Carlisle laughed, shifting away from her tickling fingers. "Yes, but the decisions he made continued to impact England for centuries to come. The religious reforms he and his descendants caused, including the one that created this very church, are what led to the years and years of conflict within the country. My great uncle was executed by Henry VIII's oldest daughter, Mary I for being a Protestant instead of Catholic as she ordered the country to be under her reign."

"Wow," Esme breathed. "so your family was Protestant for a really long time?"

Carlisle nodded. "Yes, I have vague memories of my father explaining the long history of Protestantism within our family. I did some research some time after my transformation and found that we had ancestors that came from France and brought the more liberal ideas of Protestantism with them to England where they practiced in secret until Henry VIII outlawed Catholicism in the 16th century."

Esme looked back at the church, tilting her head back to see higher up. She began to say something but stepped back from the door when she heard the pastor from inside proclaim that the service had ended and wished the congregation a blessed day.

Carlisle and Esme walked around the small gardens as then humans filed out of the church. The adults chatted happily in the parking lot as children chased after each other in their Sunday best. The vampires laugh softly as they watch a little girl creep up behind her brother and steal his hat from his head, shrieking with laughter as she ran from him.

Once the humans had dispersed, Esme tugged Carlisle toward the door. They stepped inside, Esme's eyes going wide as she took in the sight of interior. The high arches were gorgeous, the statues that rested upon pedestals between the stained glass windows were striking.

Carlisle pressed a kiss to Esme's head. "I'm going to go say a few prayers."

Esme nodded, smiling as she watched him slide into the last pew and bow his head. She wasn't one for prayer, not like her husband was, but she enjoyed the peace it brought him.

Esme made her way over to one of the larger statues at the back of the church that depicted Jesus with children sitting around his feet. She could picture a young boy with bright blue eyes and blonde hair finding comfort in the statue, in the idea of being loved unconditionally by his Savior when he felt unwanted by his harsh father.

After a few minutes, she heard the sound of a heartbeat and then footsteps moving toward her. Carlisle still had his head down but he'd no doubt heard the pastor approaching her.

"Hello." The old man said with a smile. His voice was rough, his eyes kind. The laugh lines painted a picture of a happy man who'd lived a full life. "It's not often we see new faces around here. I'm Pastor Williams."

Esme smiled at the man, shaking his outstretched hand. "I'm Esme. My husband and I are vacationing around here and decided to stop in for a few prayers. I hope that's okay."

"Why, of course." Pastor Williams said, his hand reaching out rest against Esme's back as he looked at the statue she had been studying. "You stay as long as you two would like, my dear."

"Thank you."

Carlisle was at her side a moment later, shaking the man's hand. "Hello, Pastor Williams. I'm sorry it took me a moment to greet you, I was finishing up my prayers."

"Oh, don't you worry, son." The old man replied, eyeing Carlisle curiously.

"I'm Carlisle. It's nice to meet you."

They could hear Pastor William's sharp intake of breath before he spoke. "Cullen."

"Excuse me?" Carlisle asked, years of practice in lying helping him to keep a calm face.

"Carlisle Cullen." The man said with certainty. He glanced around the church as if to make sure they were alone. "We've always wondered when you would finally find your way back to us."

Esme looked between Carlisle and the pastor. "I'm afraid you have my husband confused with someone else." She said, taking Carlisle's hand. "This is our first time in England."

Pastor William's gaze turned back to Esme, a gentle smile on his face. "I suppose you're one of them too?"

"One of them?"

The old man's smile didn't fade as he touched Carlisle's arm. "Follow me. I'd like to show you something."

Carlisle and Esme exchanged a look, considering just running from the building but deciding against it. They followed the pastor down the aisle and up past the alter into the sacristy. The man made his way over to a bookshelf filled with books that looked to be older than the man himself. He pulled a large, dusty book from the shelf.

Carlisle and Esme watched as the man flipped carefully through the book with shaking fingers.

"Here." He said, pointing to a picture in the book.

The two of them stepped closer to see the page. The pastor was pointing the portrait of a young boy. Even with the lack of color and preservation she could see the features of her husband that the artist had managed to capture. Under the portrait was Carlisle's name and date of birth.

"He…certainly looks like me." Carlisle told the man. "Perhaps I have some ancestors that attended this church. How interesting."

Pastor Williams shook his head and closed the book. "I know what you are, son. What happened you- I've been told it was a tragedy."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're Carlisle Cullen. A vampire."

Carlisle and Esme held back their gasps, exchanging another look before eyeing the man.

Carlisle hesitated before speaking. "How do you…?"

"This history of this church is very thorough. There are diaries and other documents that have been kept for centuries. There was an entry made by the man who ran the church a decade or so after your father passed claiming that he'd seen you alive in Italy. He said that you were cohabitating with ancient vampires." Pastor Williams explains. "I've read over all of the documents that remain in regards to this church and I have to say, I never thought I'd see you with my own eyes."

Carlisle was speechless. He'd never been figured out in this way, had never met anyone that could trace his ancestory in the way this man had. He never imagined that the church would have even mentioned him in their records.

"You're not afraid of us?" Esme asked after a moment. There weren't many humans that would be content to be alone with two vampires.

"No, my dear." The man chuckled. "I am a man of God. And I figure, if you were here to drink my blood you wouldn't have stopped to say a prayer first."

Esme laughed softly, a little nervously as she squeezed Carlisle's hand in hers.

Carlisle finally regained his ability to speak as he felt the strong grip of his wife's hand pulling him back to earth. "You must keep this a secret."

"I know, son. Your life is one of secrecy. I know this."

"Thank you." Carlisle said.

Pastor Williams smiled at the two of them. "Now, come sit. I would like to hear your story. I assume it is very long and these old legs of mine are getting tired.