April 1897

"And you will write, won't you?" Claire Destler's mother stood before her with tears in her eyes.

"Of course, I will Mama. You'll barely notice that I'm gone." She embraced her quickly, avoiding her father's gaze. Saying goodbye to her father would be the hardest part of all. Claire and her father were very close, and very alike in many ways. They each kept to themselves and were passionate creative souls.

As she was pulled into a tight embrace by her father, Claire bit back tears. She was leaving her family for nearly a year to travel with her Grandmother on a grand tour. At seventeen, Claire still wasn't sure what her purpose in life was, and she hoped very dearly that traveling with Gran would help her figure that out. Charles, the eldest, was an architect like their father. He was in Italy for the moment, working to open a new office there for their father. Her oldest sister Madeleine was recently married and had moved into Paris to live with her new husband. Her sister Isabella had recently taken a position as a governess and her younger sister Julienne was off at finishing school for the year. Esme was still too young at nine years old to know what she wanted to do. Her biggest concern was which doll to seat where at her imaginary tea parties.

Her father pulled back and tilted her chin to look up at him.

"You don't have to go." He said, pleading. Swallowing the lump in her throat she averted her eyes.

"Yes I do, Dad. I need to do this. For me." He nodded sadly, touching her cheek.

"You've always been stuck in the middle Claire. Third youngest. Third oldest. Go, and enjoy yourself and be first for once. But come home to us."

"I will." She croaked, throwing herself into his warm arms again and choking back a sob. She pulled on her hat and cloak, and followed her Gran to the doorway, looking once more at her mother, father and little Esme. S

She closed the door behind her, looking up to the sun coming through the heavy clouds.