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He handed Lark the coat, and she took it without question, the fabric heavy as she folded it over her arms.

“Put that on,” he commanded. “It will protect you from the rain.”

Lark hesitated, then did as she was told, the scent of his cologne muddling her senses. “What about you?”

He removed his jacket, revealing his dark blue waistcoat and white shirtsleeves speckled with rain. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to cover the owl with this”—he held up his jacket—“and when I have hold of her securely, I’ll give you a signal. Then you must help me untie the snare. Do you think you can manage?”

He’d asked the question not out of doubt, but out of care. Lark could see it in his eyes.

“Yes,” she stated firmly. “I can do that.”

He nodded, loosening his cravat then moving from their hiding place.

Lark watched him slowly creep out of the woods into the clearing and toward the owl. The creature remained still, her obsidian eyes unflinching. The only sign she was agitated at all was the clacking of her beak and thinning of her body as she stretched taller.

Mr. Branok didn’t speak, merely approached the owl in silence, the only sound being that of his footsteps in the soft, wet grass beneath his boots.

He paused a few feet away, holding the jacket up slowly, then in one swift movement, he tossed the cover toward the owl.

She responded with a sudden screech, and Lark gasped as the owl flared its wings, attempting to escape, but the snare caught harder around her leg.

Mr. Branok retrieved the discarded jacket, stepped a few feet away, then did the process again, and again. On his fourth attempt, the jacket landed squarely over the owl, and he launched forward, wrapping his arms around the bird to secure his hold of her.

He maneuvered around the grass until he settled in a seated position, the owl holding still and silent now she could not see the danger around her.

Lark waited with bated breath. Finally, Mr. Branok met her eye and nodded. Swiftly, she left her shelter in the trees and joined him in the clearing, kneeling at his side with his greatcoat heavy around her shoulders.

“Careful of her talons,” he instructed in a soothing voice, holding the owl more securely.

Lark nodded in silence, examining the knots in the snare before reaching forward, acutely aware of the black claws and foot of the owl stretching out nearly five inches. They would shred her gloves in a heartbeat.

“Are you frightened?” Mr. Branok asked.

She was going to lie to save her pride, then decided against it. “Yes.”

She glanced up at him, his eyes steady. “I promise you, I will do my part to keep you safe. You do yours to keep her safe.” He motioned to the bird, giving Lark an encouraging nod. “You can do this, Miss Fernside.”

She drew a steadying breath. If Mr. Branok had faith in her, she would have faith in herself, too.

Upon her first touch, the owl reacted with another screech, attempting to spread its wings again and thrashing about its talons. It caught the end of her dress, but Lark dodged out of the way before any damage could be done to her flesh.

Mr. Branok held fast, his features strained with effort. “Are you hurt?” he asked, frowning.

“No. No, I am well.”

Then she moved toward the snare once again. She wrestled with the wire for nearly a quarter of an hour as Mr. Branok held the bird until finally, the snare was freed from the owl’s legs, and Mr. Branok motioned for Lark to return to the trees.

She did so at once, holding his greatcoat securely round her, ever grateful for the shelter it had provided. She turned back around to face him as soon as she was in the midst of the trees, then watched him roll his body to the side, release the bird and jacket, and back away slowly toward Lark.

The owl didn’t move for a moment, merely clacking her beak in warning as Mr. Branok joined Lark behind the bushes.

“Is she injured?” Lark whispered.

“No,” Mr. Branok responded. “Look.”

They watched in silence as the owl remained still. Then all at once, the bird splayed out her greyish brown feathers, knocked the jacket to the ground, and beat her wings against the air until she took flight in silence, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

They watched her fly away, a sense of accomplishment swelling within Lark’s heart as the owl flew above the trees until she disappeared out of sight.