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She was worried, worried that I would think less of her for pandering to the whimsy of some paranoid lordling.

“It has taken me nearly three years to get here. I may seem young, but I belong here as much, if not more, than some rich lordling who can’t tell salt from cyanide by tasting it.”

“You deserve a good name. I hate to see some lordling with delusions of wit saddle you with some terrible name like Midnight or Sooty or Scut.”

So, making the safe assumption that Littlefinger knew about Ramsay, he must have been trying to punish her or hurt Sansa, by handing her over to Westeros’ most hateful lordling.

A column of riders came wheeling up behind them, led by a lordling with a horsehead on his shield.