The Sirens Song

Carlisle Westford unbuttoned his waistcoat as his new bride sat brushing her long that glowed softly in the candlelight. Her face was illuminated by it, she smiled at him in the mirror. It was a smile he returned before turning to unbuttoning his cuffs. 

It was their first night together as a properly married couple. The Inn in which they were staying was highly respectable, situated in a small town along the Devon coast. 
His bride began humming softly to herself as she brushed her long hair. 

'Dear, it is quite stuffy in here, I would like some air,' she requested, still stroking the soft bristled brush through her golden locks. 

Being the gentleman his father had raised him to be he acqueised to his wife's request and opened the double paned window that looked out onto a clifface. Just as he did open the window, a gust of air blew out the candle on the dresser. His wife turned and tutted softly before returning to her toilette. 

He frowned at the snuffed candle and then heard something on the wind. His frown deepened and he moved closer to the window, opening it a little more to see if he could ascertain as to what the mysterious sound was.