The second story in the Bluestocking Belles collection, Fire & Frost, is Rue Allyn’s charming My One True Love.

Major Arthur Trevor PenRhyddyrch, Earl of Trehallow, returned to Wales from war and found his best friend gone. No one would speak her name let alone tell him where she might be. Then he found her in the frosty London fog of January 1814 only to lose her in the next moment.

When Miss Mary Percival Cummins saw Trevor in the fog, she ran. She knew he would hate her once he heard what others said, and the memory of their friendship was too dear for her to survive knowing he despised her.

But fate and the Duchess of Haverford had different plans. Her Grace knew, if they did not, that these two friends deserved the happiness of finding their one true love.

An excerpt

Trevor blinked. Percy had used his given name. Without any hesitation or prompting. Nor was she subdued and reluctant as she had been when the evening started. What had changed? He doubted anything in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice had inspired his love to drop her unnecessary shame. He did agree, however, that Kean’s performance was inspiring. Perhaps she was simply transported out of the personal darkness that suppressed her naturally buoyant and intrepid spirit.
Regardless of the cause, he was pleased and happy to see again the inner fire that had always shown bright and strong in his best friend. Pray heaven they encounter no one rude enough to cause his love to sink back into unwarranted guilt. He helped her rise and escorted her from the box. Jessica had been correct. It seemed the entire audience had come for refreshments and to discuss the performance thus far. Everywhere he turned he heard Kean, Kean, Kean as well as stellar, immortal, truly gifted, and many other accolades. No one spoke Percy’s name. No one noticed her enough to turn aside and give the cut direct.
Her Grace had been right to insist that Percy attend tonight’s performance.

Meet the heroine.

She did not want him knowing where she lived. She shook her head and dropped her gaze to her fingers clenched in her lap.. She dared not look at him. One glance at the concern in his deep brown eyes, might have her betraying all good sense and throwing herself into his arms to weep out her troubles. He would feel honor bound to solve all her problems. She could not allow that.
“For the coachman,” he continued.
“Haverford House,” she blurted. She did not have to go inside, and if Trevor insisted on seeing her as far as the foyer, she would let him. The footmen were all familiar with her comings and goings. No one would question her if she left through the kitchen the minute Trevor left through the front door.
But Robert Burns had been right in his poetic address To a Mouse,. “The best laid schemes o’ mice and men, gang aft agley.” Her plans went awry the moment she crossed the threshold. There, in the midst of the foyer, stood Jessica and the duchess herself.
“Trehallow, my lad,” the duchess said. Jessica followed, crossing to where Trevor and Percy stood just inside the now closed front door. “What a pleasant surprise, and you’ve brought our Miss Cummins back home with you. We had begun to worry about you, dear.” The duchess—who did not prevaricate–lied through her teeth. “Go on up and change. We shall wait dinner until you come down.”
Jess took Percy by the arm and compelled her to walk to the stairs. There she spoke a few quiet words to a nearby footman. Percy was being whisked away up the stairs before she could blink. What was Her Grace thinking?
“You will join us for dinner, Trehallow. I insist,” Her Grace decreed.

And her determined hero.

He and Percy walked in silence nearly half the length of the promenade, the only sounds coming from the crunch of straw on the frozen ground beneath their feet and the low murmur of the other couple’s voices.
He wanted to ask her what happened. Why she had become this silent almost shy person, when that was so alien to the lively, curious, intrepid Percy he remembered. But he could not find the words.
“How have you been, Percy?” was all he could manage.
“Well enough with the duchess’s patronage.”
Was she completely dependent on the duchess? That would not sit well with the Percy he had known. “I was sorry to hear of your parents’ passings. That must have been a very difficult time for you.”
She shrugged. “I prefer not to speak of it.”
So she would not talk about her family. “How did you come to know the Duchess of Haverford?”
“Jessica and I were at school together. She insisted I come to her and the Duchess after… after my father died. Mother was too ill to travel, so I came by myself. Her Grace has been all that is kind and helpful. Mother remained at Cummins house under the care of my cousin Donald. I hoped she was well cared for, since I could not be there to see to her comfort myself.”
Which implied that, without the Haverford’s help, Percy might not have been able to provide for her mother at all.
“I am very sorry I was not there to help, Percy. But surely your cousin gave you and your mother a home?”
Percy looked at him, her expression hard, her lips pressed together. “As I said earlier, it is not a time I care to discuss.”