"Good Evening, Sir... Bha..Bhard... Bardwage."

Tybalt's brows furrowed as the combination of slight alcohol haze and difficulty of the foreign name on his tongue forced him to stumble on the words. He cleared his throat and looked for anyone around to give him an excuse to get away fast. Not finding any such luck, his eyes moved back to hers and then to the library behind her.

"Find something interesting in those dusty old cow-hides?"

Yes, you're doing a fine job so far Tybalt. Good conversational skills. That didn't at all sound as if it were worded poorly.